


White Walls, White Room

by TallowCat



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst??, M/M, janne's sick as a dog, this is gay and sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallowCat/pseuds/TallowCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are…A-Are you afraid, Janne?”<br/>“Hmm..? Not of death, maybe the thought of being alone, or not knowing what comes after… Or maybe I’m just scared of leaving you alone? Haha… how fucking pathetic right? I’m shaking… W-What a piece of work I am…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Walls, White Room

Yew hated the smell.

He hated the look.

And slowly the colour white was becoming something he hated.

Slowly the walls of white felt more trapping then anything.

The colour white no longer felt kind, it felt stale and suffocating.

 

And yet he was not the one forced to bear it every hour of every day.

 

No, that pain belonged to Janne.

He was the one forced to stare up at the ceiling and see nothing but white and white only. Even the flowers Yew brought didn’t seem to light up the room as they used to.

 

No, now they bleed into the white around them, pulling the colour away as if they were wilting simply from being there.

 

_“Maybe they miss the sun…”_

_“I know I fucking miss it.”_

Yew felt sick whenever he recalled that.

Janne had never been one for sitting still and doing nothing. Even during their school days he’d always been antsy to get up and do something. Not one to be stuck behind a desk.

 

And now he was stuck to a bed, him being the only colour in a field of sickening white.

He knew the white was something normal; a room for the sick that wasn’t white wasn’t something Yew knew about.

And despite what he knew he simply wished to take Janne away, let him have some peace in a place that wasn’t coated as white as the snows of Eternia.

 

Maybe if it had been an injury he’d have been allowed to do that, to whisk the man he loved somewhere where the sun shone bright and the warmth helped him relax.

 

But no… It had to be a sickness that befell Janne, one they didn’t see coming.

Of course Janne had been sick before but none had ever seen him with an illness so strong it knocked the air from his lungs and the strength from his legs.

 

\--

 

He’d collapsed during a spar with Yew, dropping his sword with a wide-eyed look of pain. At first Yew assumed he’d gotten a hit that only just started to hurt. But Janne had sunk to his knees, clawing at his neck in desperate need of air that he couldn’t wheeze in no matter how hard he tried.

Truly it was the most terrifying thing Yew had seen in a long while.

 

He’d looked so scared, fingers struggling to rip at the skin of his throat as if it would help the air get in.

 

Apparently if they’d been any later he wouldn’t have made it.

That alone was enough to make Yew pale and feel everything drop. Janne could have died and they just made it. _Janne could have died that day._

 

And now he was stuck sitting in a bed, no chance of ever getting out to see the world again. Yew didn’t even know what had befallen him; he didn’t know what brought this sickness on.

 

He knew nothing and he hated it.

   He knew nothing except for one thing.

 

That Janne was dying and there was no way for him to prevent it at all…

 

\--

 

He tried to keep a brave face.

He really, honestly, truly did.

 

He tried so hard, so damn hard not to break down.

He tried hard not to feel like the white of the walls was gripping his throat and choking him.

 

He tried hard not to sob whenever Janne asked about the outside he wouldn’t see again.

He tried not to break when Janne fiddled with the petals of the flowers he brought in, talking about how bright they were and how much he missed seeing things.

 

He tried so fucking hard.

But he still broke.

 

\--

 

Janne looked sick and tired, literally. Pale and his eyes looked like he hadn’t closed them for a good nights sleep in so very long, years beyond days even. He knew it wasn’t true.

 

He did know that Janne had trouble sleeping. Sometimes he felt too sick to try, it kept him awake passed exhaustion. Or sometimes it was too hard to breathe, too hard to trust himself not to die.

That was the worst… That he couldn’t even trust himself not to die in his sleep.

 

His hair… The hair that Yew could remember fondly. How often had he been told cut it?

How often had he replied with: “Fucking fine, I’ll do it tomorrow you ass.” Only to never follow through?

How often had Yew weaved flowers through the black locks in an attempt to bring some more colour? Even if it took a field he was willing to try for Janne.

How often had he weaved his hands through Janne’s hair when in a particularly heated lip-lock? A way to ground him and keep Janne close, because he didn’t want him leaving, he couldn’t stand the thought.

The hair that splayed out when they slept was no being pulled out in clumps or falling out at an alarming rate.

 

He’d tried to brush it once, upon Janne’s request.

 

_“I miss you doing it… You always did it the best…”_

And yet when he’d done so the brush pulled the hair straight out, no resistance just… just clumps of hair that made Yew feel sick. And Janne’s expression at the time meant he knew that it was going to happen, that he knew he was losing it all.

 

\--

 

Yew was afraid of his lover’s death.

He wasn’t sure if Janne was…

 

_“Are…A-Are you afraid, Janne?”  
“Hmm..? Not of death, maybe the thought of being alone, or not knowing what comes after… Or maybe I’m just scared of leaving you alone? Haha… how fucking pathetic right? I’m shaking… W-What a piece of work I am…”_

Janne had cried, holding him tightly whilst he sobbed all his fears into Yew’s front.

Janne had sobbed in fear of death and dying. In fear of no longer having Yew there to keep him safe and grounded.

He was just as afraid for Yew as he was himself, even if death was his biggest fear at the time.

 

Yew had done all he could. He’d whispered comforts, murmured lullaby’s and pressed kisses to wherever he could reach, hoping that Janne understood what he meant.

 

When Janne grabbed him and kissed him, holding him as tight as he could – he was shaky and weak, nothing like the Janne he grew with – Yew knew they were both royally screwed.

Composure was thrown to shit and they sobbed, holding each other tightly with as many “I love you”s as their breath would allow.

 

\--

 

Janne always greeted him with a kiss whenever he visited.

 

If he brought flowers he’d place them beside the bed before being tugged down for a gentle kiss.

Maybe his nose, or possibly his cheek, obviously his favourite ones were on the lips.

And then a small laugh – weak and strained that made Yew’s chest _squeeze_ – and he’d get the words he loved the most.

 

_“I love you, Yew.”_

They could spend the day chatting, or maybe something else if it struck their fancy. Usually Janne chose conversation topics, Yew didn’t mind, he liked listening to Janne talk.

 

Even as Janne began to change, growing thin, pale with hair short and still falling out, he always managed to make Yew smile and laugh. Sometimes, if he pretended, he could think they weren’t sitting in a room awaiting Janne’s death.

 

\--

 

A year…

Janne had one year left.

At most, anyway.

 

_One year at most, at fucking most._

One year before Janne died.

One year before he left everything and everyone behind.

One year before he left Yew.

One year before Yew lost the person he held so close.

One year before Yew knew he’d fall into the deepest pit of despair.

 

Janne knew, they both knew.

They tried hard to cherish the time they got.

But it was hard with that always looming over their heads.

 

Even as all visitors left Yew remained, sitting beside Janne’s bed, a calm conversation between them.

It was a long time ago that they’d stopped trying to get him to leave; they simply let him stay the night if he so wished.

 

When the news of how long Janne had left reached peoples ears all he got pitied looks. From friends and passersby. The flowers he got were often handed to him with a look of sadness, as people knew how terribly Yew Geneolgia would fall when Janne left his side.

 

No one was prepared for when he did fall. For who could catch a bird who fell from the highest peak with his trusted friend?

 

\--

 

At nights when he stayed Janne’s hands ran through his hair gently.

Rarely were any words exchanged during that time.

Yew simply let his head rest against Janne with his face hidden against the older’s neck.

 

He listened to Janne’s heart and rugged breathing as he tried to sleep, hoping that he wouldn’t break down into sobs.

 

But when Janne made a noise of pain, his breathing screwing up the calm pattern that was calming him Yew broke.

 

He sobbed and he cried, begging for Janne not to leave him because he couldn’t live without him, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He wanted Janne by his side whether whoever determined death wanted him gone or not.

Yew didn’t give a crap about it.

 

All he wanted was his Janne to stand tall by his side once more.

 

The break obviously surprised his lover from his trance of combing his hair.

 

_“H-hey, Yew. Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay… You’re okay… I’m here, Yew, calm down, shh… I love you, it’s okay, it’s all okay…”_

\--

 

There were days when Yew couldn’t get out of bed, simply laying with Janne’s old coat over him as a blanket.

There were days when he didn’t want to get up because he was too scared of everyone’s looks.

 

When Janne had died everyone tried to comfort him.

 

He’d gone in with flowers as normal until he was pulled aside and given the news.

 

He’d cried, screamed and yelled. Begged for it not to be true. The look he was given was one of pure pain; no one wanted to be the one to give Yew the news that Janne had passed in his sleep the night before.

…The one night Yew had chosen to go home and spend time trying to relax, thinking he’d see Janne the next day…

 

\--

 

A lot of times Yew spoke to his grave, keeping him updated on how people were fairing.

Janne didn’t like to be out of things.

 

He’d lean against it with Janne’s coat over his shoulders, talking to his lover in a way that didn’t feel real anymore.

 

Truly… Truly Yew missed Janne.

 

 

Though… he was glad the last words they had exchanged had been kind.

 

_“I love you, Janne. With all my heart…”_

_“Heh, yeah… I love you too, Yew. With every part of me I love you. And I’ll never stop loving you, okay..?”_

**Author's Note:**

> lmao whoops


End file.
